A Hole Possessed

What won'drous hole was delved in spacious hill,
Above the Party Field, on Bagshot Row?
Why, oft there as a hobbit-lass I'd go,
To husband's aunt's fair hole: oh, what a thrill!
E'er since my feet first chanced beyond your gate,
And eyes surveyed the wonders there enthroned,
I knew one day, you'd be my very own:
If I should only bide my time and wait.

So wait I did, 'till Tookish blood proved strong,
And Bilbo went with Dwarven folk away.
The hole was mine! My hope had not proved vain!
But he returned, brought home by wizard grey,
To take from me the hole where I belong.
But fear not, dear, soon you'll be mine again.